


Matryoshka

by Yotsubadancesintherain5



Category: BoJack Horseman
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Character Death, Character Study, Drug Use, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-10
Updated: 2020-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:56:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23096710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yotsubadancesintherain5/pseuds/Yotsubadancesintherain5
Summary: Sarah Lynn figured this would happen eventually, but it was entirely different when it actually happened.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	Matryoshka

**Author's Note:**

> Additional warning for mild body horror.

There was a camera overhead, a bulky one that Sarah Lynn knew her entire life. She was standing in a kitchen, and there was a staircase in it; _what a stupid way to build a house, where did it even go,_ she thought. This set was as much as her home as she could get and that seemed incredibly sad, but in the way that she would snap a picture and laugh at the misery.

The window over the sink showed the outside world; snow, no one else, dead trees in the yard and a dark, starless sky.

Sarah Lynn’s knees stung, she could feel the blood slither down, like when a child trips on a slab of concrete hidden by playground sand or a misstep on school stairs. But when she looked down she saw no mark, no blood, and wondered, with a start, if it came from her nose.

_Drywall_ , and no, it was, _congratulations, that’s better than an Oscar_ , but that was before that she found out she won one and realized she never liked anything about herself.

“Horse! Horse!” Sarah Lynn called out. She looked down once again and noticed her footwear.

It was a pair of bright red shoes. They put a spring in her step as she walked even with the unease stewing in her mind.

The tap of the shoes grew louder as she stepped through the kitchen door. It did not lead to the living room but to a darkroom, where pictures were hung up on clothesline. The chemically-infused water seemed to slosh ominously.

The reddish tone of the room, the memory of the harshness of a camera’s flash, made Sarah Lynn’s stomach lurch.

“Please come home,” a voice said, it was distorted but still her heart beat painfully as she ran. The clack of the shoes on the concrete was like a hammer pounding a nail through her brain.

Sarah Lynn fell, she cried out, and she landed on a stage. Her audience shouted her name. Their faces were burnt and flayed open.

“I don’t even know who you are anymore,” this new voice was distorted with a hint of stuffy, disingenuous politeness and anger boiled within her. She’d give them all one hell of a show.

With all her leaps, jumps and bounds, her cloying moves and tantalizing forbidden fruit in her lyrics the audience slowly dwindled. Pills and alcohol began to rain from the ceiling of the stage and she swallowed as much of it all as she could.

If everyone looked at her as a lost cause she might as well become a statistic.

Still the audience vanished until Sarah Lynn was left with the ever present camera overhead and the dark sky.

“I thought he’d always be there for me,” she said, a touch of sadness.

She pulled off the shoes and threw them at the camera. There was no better satisfaction than the sound of it crashing heavily to the ground.

Sarah Lynn let herself fall to the ground and readily greeted the dark, starless sky.

**Author's Note:**

> I figured if Sarah Lynn had a "life flashing before eyes," sort of thing it'd probably be like this.


End file.
